


Practice

by midnighteclipse



Series: Becoming Inhuman [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, But not graphic i swear, Corruption, Dubious Morality, Empath, Gen, I promise, Not Romance, Telepathic Bond, Torture, affection from Giyera if you squint, he's warming up to you, i feel ashamed, in a creepy sensei kind of way, tHIS IS SO SHORT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnighteclipse/pseuds/midnighteclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to assist Giyera you must hone your skills and remove all doubts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice

You never had a great memory, but you knew for fact Ward was always vocal with his emotions.

 

But Hive, he just _didn’t._ If it weren't for your abilities and the bond, you wouldn’t  be able to get a read on him. Because of this it didn't take long for you to discover that he wasn't Grant Ward. He was Inhuman with the ability to, in a manner of speaking, possess the bodies of the dead and use it as a vessel. It was unsettling at first, but it wasn’t like one could choose their gifts. One could only accept them in stride. Besides, it didn’t feel as if he minded.

 

You had seen what he could do. How he could strip the bones of men bare from flesh and skin. You feared him, more than you had ever feared Ward. Fear was a natural reaction to a being so powerful. Past that, all you could feel was respect for him after hearing the rumors and whispers of his origins. How he was stuck on a deserted planet for thousands of years with nothing but corpses to keep him alive. He had seen hardship, lived it. He was the epitome of Inhuman survival and you gladly accepted any assignment he would give to you in order to further advance his noble cause.

 

Ultimately, he had decided that the best assignment for you and your abilities (being able to receive and project emotions through skin to skin contact) was to assist Giyera with interrogations. To project extreme emotions of fear in order to give them the extra push.

 

Despite your eagerness to assist, the interrogation process was never pleasant. Even if you were no stranger to pain and fear thanks to your previous training in SHIELD, most of the time the emotions you would project were your own. Gore was never something you had enjoyed.

 

Giyera knew this, and despite his initial reservations, he soon began coaching you on how to reign in your emotions. How to show what you wanted and to mask what you did not.

 

_“Why are you helping me? Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to handle this on my own, to learn from my  mistakes and become more powerful through my own struggle?”_

 

_“Perhaps, but there are times when even an Inhuman with abilities as powerful as yours need assistance in controlling them. His eyes flickered to yours briefly as he washed the splattered blood from the front of his grey suit before continuing. “Your abilities are your strength but they are also your flaw You cannot allow the emotions of your subject to cloud your judgement.”_

 

_You frowned as you wiped the blood from your fingertips. “That doesn't answer my question.”_

 

_“You are assisting me in my duties, I will not allow your incompetence to hinder me in completing them.”_

 

_You nodded. Wiping the excess water on your uniform. “Fair enough.”_

 

_“We begin this afternoon.”_

 

It had been several weeks now, and along with the coaching from Giyera came no shortage of prisoners in need of an interrogation. This, no doubt was thanks to his self-imposed mission to desensitize you to the emotions of others. It was difficult but the more you practiced the easier it became. It felt like second nature now, to amplify the pain and fear and guilt of your subjects as Giyera inflicted physical damage. Mere muscle memory.

 

Some nights, when you would reflect on your day, you would find yourself cringing at the memory of their tortured screams, tears spilling from your eyes as the aftershock of their emotions reverberated through your mind. It felt wrong, it felt filthy, to turn a person’s emotions against them.

 

 _But it’s for the right cause,_ you would think. _For the survival of Inhuman kind._

  
And with those thoughts you would shake away those treacherous doubts and drift off into a peaceful slumber.


End file.
